


Shadows

by margarks



Category: The Avengers (2012), Thor (2011)
Genre: F/M, First Time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-30
Updated: 2012-06-30
Packaged: 2017-11-08 20:36:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/447295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/margarks/pseuds/margarks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When he glances up their eyes meet briefly and she feels something in her chest unfurl and reach out for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shadows

The first time Darcy meets Clint is the day she and Jane move into the Avengers Mansion. She knows who he is, of course, the whole world does, but seeing him in person is kind of a shock to her system. He's quiet, way quieter than any of the others, even Natasha. But Darcy's eyes keep getting drawn back to him.

His arms are seriously impressive. In a house full of gods, superheroes, and billionaires, Darcy can't keep from staring at the way his biceps bulge every time he lifts one of her moving boxes. And the thought of what those work roughened hands would feel like on her skin makes her shiver and blush as she directs him to place a box of books next to the oversized king bed that Stark has furnished her room with.

When he glances up their eyes meet briefly and she feels something in her chest unfurl and reach out for him. His eyes are... sad. Something lost and strangely vulnerable peeking out at her from that almost impassive face. She wants to go over and wrap her arms around him until that look disappears, until she knows that he knows that everything is going to be okay.

Then his eyes drop to the floor and he clears his throat, nodding at her as he leaves the room.

~~

Darcy doesn't think there is anything about New Mexico or her crappy little apartment that she would miss, but she's wrong. The mansion, for all its glorious size, almost feels full to bursting. Given that the people who live there are all bigger than life, she guesses that she shouldn't be surprised.

So, when she can't take the noise, the energy, or just the general mayhem, Darcy finds herself on the roof. She is kind of expecting Stark to have an Olympic sized swimming pool, leather couches, or some seriously tricked out cabanas up there, but no. It's just a plain, gravel topped roof. She thinks about hauling up a chair the first night, but only has enough energy for an armful of blankets.

She spreads out a couple and uses one as a pillow as she lays out on her back to stare up at the stars and listen to the resounding silence. She sighs when she realizes how much she misses the New Mexico night sky. She isn't an astrophysicist or even an amateur astrologer, but she remembers her grandpa showing her Orion's belt and telling her stories as he sketched out patterns in the sky.

Darcy thinks about Clint, who she's only seen ghosting around the mansion since they moved in, and wonders what he was like as a kid. She's heard something about him growing up in a traveling circus, which is totally cool in her opinion. Then she thinks about Erik and how he'd been after Loki had totally hypno'd him and wonders if that is why there are always shadows in Clint's eyes.

She can't imagine what it would be like to be trapped inside your own body like that, to know that you were hurting friends... killing friends. Clint doesn't seem like a BFF kind of guy, except maybe with Natasha, but he has to have some feelings for the people he works with. Even if they hadn't been friends, Darcy is pretty sure Clint is the kind of guy who agonizes over innocent bystanders getting hurt.

There is just something, she doesn't know, honorable about him. Even though he's barely spoken two words to her, Darcy somehow always feels safer when she knows he's in the mansion.

~~

The first time Darcy sees Clint smile her pulse kicks up double time at the little boy hitch to the corner of his mouth. It's adorable and it leaves such a stab of envy aching in her gut that she nearly gasps at the pain. He's talking to Natasha about something Darcy can't hear when it happens. Darcy feels a searing flash of longing to see that smile again, followed almost instantly by a jealousy so strong that she has to leave the room. Strangely, she thinks she feels his eyes on her as she spins away towards the exit.

~~

Pretty much every room in Stark's mansion has a theater system to rival AMC. So, Darcy is shocked when Clint appears one day to take a silent seat beside her on the couch as she queues up a DVD. She feels her face heat as the opening scene to the Adventures of Robin Hood appears on screen. She rolls her eyes heavenward because of course, of course, Clint would finally appear to spend time with her on the one night she decides to give in to her obsession with him and have a freaking Robin Hood marathon.

"Uh, hi." She plays awkwardly with the remote in her hand studiously not looking him in the eye. Through her peripheral vision she sees him nod at her. "We can, uh, watch something else if you want," she offers.

"This is fine," he says, his voice sending shivers down her spine.

As Errol Flynn fences his way across the screen, Darcy shifts closer to Clint on the pretext of offering him popcorn. She's pleased when, even though he shakes his head at her, he doesn't seem to mind her closeness. There is still something... closed off about him, even though he seems way more relaxed now than he had when she'd first arrived.

Darcy tries to ignore the heat she can feel radiating off Clint, but it pulls her in. He doesn't object to her head on his shoulder and though she told herself weeks ago that Clint is definitely not the touchy-feely type, Darcy gives him even more of her weight.

She wakes slowly to the feel of something solid beneath her cheek and a warm weight pressing lightly against her hip. It takes a few minutes for realization to seep into her consciousness. Her head is in Clint's lap, the credits flickering against her closed eyelids as his thumb slides almost imperceptibly back and forth against her pajama covered hip. 

Her heart is suddenly drumming loud and fast against her chest and Darcy feels Clint go still around her. 

She bolts upright, careful not to clock him as she does. That would be all she needed. "S-sorry," she stutters, knowing her cheeks are bright red. Her brain is still trying to catch up as she tries to finger comb her mussed hair. "I don't usually – it's just that I have this thing with you and... " She trails off, biting her bottom lip.

Clint's eyes bore into hers. "Thing?"

Darcy closes her eyes and sighs, then thinks, what the hell? "I totally don't make a habit of using practical strangers as my personal pillows, but you – " she waves a hand in his general direction. "It's just that you make me feel safe... er. Safer, when you're around." She shrugs. "I guess I got too comfortable?"

Even though Darcy can't say that Clint's expression changes at all, something about him softens at that and he doesn't look away. Her cheeks feel hot again, except this time the heat travels all the way down to her belly and leaves her tingling.

The silence is starting to become awkward, so Darcy says, "Sorry," again just as Clint says, "Thanks." She isn't sure what he is thanking her for, but she grins at him anyway and the low thrum of arousal buzzing through her system spikes when one corner of his mouth kicks up to return the smile.

~~

Within a week of their whatever they'd had in front of Robin Hood, Stark's CCTV, and God, Darcy admits she needs to reevaluate her initial assessment of Clint. He is definitely the touch-feely type. It isn't that he's all grabby-hands with her, because he isn't. It's little things, like a hand on the small of her back as they walk, or his arm lingering a little too long when he wraps one of her blankets or even his own jacket around her while they sit up on the rooftop.

And that's the other thing. He starts showing up everywhere. It would've been a little creepy if she didn't like it so much. Hell, she hadn't been lying when she said that he made her feel safe. She likes that he's always around. And after a while, he even starts really talking to her.

Darcy loves the sound of his voice, soft and gravelly, especially when it drifts across the dark rooftop. She doesn't push him to say anything he doesn't want to, even though she still aches to chase away that lost look in his eyes. It's not as prevalent as it used to be, but it still makes her want to wrap herself around him and make everything better.

One night while they're lying out on Darcy's blankets, looking at each other instead of the night-sky, Darcy just can't resist. She rolls closer, throwing an arm over his waist and wrapping herself around him. 

"Darcy." His voice sounds strangled, even as his arms settle around her.

She doesn't know what to say to him or even how to explain what she's feeling. Closing her eyes, she rubs her cheek against his shirt, his chest rumbling beneath her ear. His arms tighten around her and then their rolling and Darcy finds herself on her back, looking up at him.

His thumb ghosts over her cheek and she shudders, tilting her face up into his touch. "I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't."

There's something wild in his eyes, something a little desperate when he says, "I would never hurt you."

"I know," she says, wrapping her hand around his wrist to hold his palm to her cheek and nods. "I trust you."

He closes his eyes for one brief second and groans. Then they're kissing. It's tentative at first, nothing like she expects. He licks at her bottom lip, almost as if asking for permission before sliding his tongue slowly, sweetly into her mouth.

His hands are bracketing her face, holding her still as he sucks at the tip of her tongue and swallows her moans. It's intense in a way Darcy's never experienced before. His strength is almost tangible and she can feel the way he's pouring it all into the kiss, into her. But at the same time his touch is gentle, as if he can't be anything but careful with her.

He leaves her mouth to trail kisses across her jaw and down her throat. When the flat of his palm brushes over one hard nipple practically poking through her shirt, she arches and breathes his name. 

"God," he says, pausing with his hand resting against her belly to take in the sight of her.

"Clint." This time she whines his name, wriggling beneath his touch in a bid to get him moving again.

He favors her with another of those half-smiles, his eyes filled with a weird mix of hunger and affection. 

"You're adorable," she says without thinking, reaching up to cup his jaw in one hand. He honest to go blushes at that, and a laugh of pure happiness bubbles out of her. She leans up to press her mouth to his and doesn't mind when he follows her down again.

Clint's hands leave a trail of heat all over her body. She can feel his erection pressing against her hip, but he doesn't rock against her, doesn't do anything but work at making her feel good. She spares a brief moment to wonder at his ironclad control then forgets everything when his hand slides beneath the waistband of her sweats and into her panties.

He nibbles at her earlobe, teeth scraping deliciously, as two fingers slip into the heat of her. She thrusts up into his touch, her own fingers tightening around his biceps. She loves the feel of his muscles as they contract beneath her hand with each plunge of his fingers inside her. 

She knows that they're practically in public, hell, that there's probably a security camera or two trained on them at the moment. A part of her doesn't care, while another part has just enough sense to bury her face against his throat. She's cursing and moaning and calling his name at the first touch of his callused thumb against her clit. Her mouth opens hot and wet against his pulse point as she shakes through her orgasm, her whole body plastered against his.

When she opens her eyes he's watching her with a tenderness that makes her chest ache. She tries to return the favor, but all he does is kiss her and tuck her closer up against his side as he licks her taste off his fingers. "I'm good," he says.

~~

When Darcy wonders about the kinds of things that keep Clint up at night, she imagines it’s the faces of people he wasn't able to save or maybe the image of one of his teammates getting hurt. So when he bolts up in bed, her name a hoarse whisper on his tongue, she doesn't exactly know what to do.

"Clint?" she asks, the tips of her fingers pressing lightly over his heart. She watches him blink himself awake, watches as all his focus swings to her just as his arms circle around to crush her against him. He's breathing hard, resting his cheek against the top of her head so that each breath rustles her curls. "Shh," she says, patting his chest soothingly. "I'm okay." Because she knows now that his nightmares don't revolve around the people he couldn't save, but the people he may not be able to. "I'm okay."

She can feel him relax a fraction and his breathing slows. Eventually they lay back down, still wrapped around each other. She presses a kiss to his shoulder, letting her palm skim over his chest. His hand tightens against her hip as she presses another kiss, this one over his heart. Her tongue finds the dark peak of a nipple, teasing until Clint is panting her name. She raises her knee until she can feel the press of Clint's hard cock against her thigh before biting at his collarbone, and then suckling hard enough to leave a faint bruise.

"Darce – " he chokes out her name when she straddles his hips.

"Shh," she says again as her fingers circle his cock, pressing the head against her damp entrance. She loves the feel of him, hard as steel as she sinks onto his shaft.

"God, you feel – "

"I know," Darcy says, kissing him as she waits for her body to adjust to the stretch and burn of his fullness. No condoms. She's always been a big believer in safety first, has never even considered sleeping with a guy without protection before Clint. She's never felt as close to anyone as she does with Clint either. 

A part of her thinks it's stupid and cliché that she wants to literally be as close to him as possible, but it's the truth. And after months of being together, she trusts him and she knows he trusts her. They both got tested, too, because neither of them are idiots. And she's on the pill for a month, just in case, before they ever try going without. But God, it feels good to have him inside her like this.

She rocks her hips, riding him slowly, loving the way his eyes caress her entire body. It feels so intensely intimate to be here with him in the dark, the room lit only by the faint glow of moonlight that sneaks through the small slit between the curtains. His hands slide up and over her belly, his thumbs just brushing the undersides of her breasts as she leans forward to take him even deeper inside her.

He rises just enough to swirl his tongue around her nipple, one hand squeezing and rubbing at her other breast as she sighs her approval. She combs her fingers through his hair and cups the back of his head to keep him close, her hips stuttering when his teeth clamp lightly around her. She moans, picking up the rhythm again this time with a faster tempo.

He shifts, sitting up and pressing a hand to her nape to hold her still as he kisses her. It reminds her a little of their first kiss, intense and intimate and breath stealing. Except he's not quite as gentle anymore, thrusting up into her as she grinds against him. But she can still feel the careful way he touches her, as if he values every caress, as if he values her

She's close, can feel the waves of pleasure crashing harder and faster against her. She pulls her mouth away from him to press her lips against his ear and whisper, "You feel amazing inside me. You always do." She reaches between them to rub lightly against her clit as she feels him buck up into her, rhythm totally lost. "But feeling you like this? Really inside me? Coming inside me?" She shudders and tightens around him. "Clint," she moans his name, biting down on the fleshy part of his earlobe as her climax begins to peak inside her.

Clint's groan is so low and so deep she can feel the vibrations of it rippling through her. He flips her onto her back and thrusts again and again until she can see the tendons in his throat throbbing as his cock pulses inside of her. They stay locked together for several long minutes before Darcy feels the bed dip and all of Clint's heat disappears.

She's boneless and half-asleep when he returns with a wet washcloth to clean her up and shift her back under the covers. When they're tangled together, their heads resting against the pillows again, Clint presses a soft kiss into her hair. When she looks up to meet his eyes, the shadows there have shifted. They aren't completely gone, but there's more light than darkness she thinks. 

She presses another kiss to his shoulder then settles her cheek against his chest, listening to the soft thud of his heartbeat. And when he laces their fingers together and rests them over his stomach, she smiles.

THE END.

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything. And I'm totally not making a profit.  
> Author's Note: 5 words – This. Is. All. [ladycat777's](ladycat777.livejournal.com). Fault.  
> My first Avengers fic. My first Clint/Darcy fic.


End file.
